


Extraction Plan Alpha Prime

by soidiallednine



Series: How Fitting and Sweet [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Spy, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, War, Wordplay Fic Challenge (One Direction), not all characters will be in each part, series will eventually be mature, this part is general audiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soidiallednine/pseuds/soidiallednine
Summary: The planets Walloq and Traj have been at odds for nearly a century. If nothing is done soon to stop the war, the future of both worlds may be lost. Louis Tomlinson is a member of the Trajan resistance, operating undercover on Walloq. He hopes his mission will bring the resistance closer to ending the war and, in the process, save what’s left of his family. Dr. Harry Styles is the son of the president of Walloq, pampered and privileged - and the target of Louis’s mission. Harry is also playing a secret role in the conflict, one that puts him in grave danger on his home planet. When Louis’s cover is blown, he needs to flee Walloq and try to make it back to Traj safely. Whether he likes it or not, Harry is coming along for the ride.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: How Fitting and Sweet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817845
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35
Collections: Prompt 1.4: Extract





	Extraction Plan Alpha Prime

Harry was sure that the soldier sitting before him was lying. He didn’t quite know how he was so sure, but he was. Harry usually preferred to believe his patients were telling the truth -- or at least telling the truth as they understood it to be -- but he just couldn’t with this one. 

“That’s when I knew I was in trouble. I was able to eject safely, but when I landed in the South Castran Sea, I knew I’d be picked up any moment by a local ship who would hand me over immediately to the Trajan fleet. And that’s exactly what happened.”

Captain Grant continued with his story, but Harry wasn’t really listening. Having decided that Grant was a liar, Harry had essentially tuned out his actual words. He had enough experience as a therapist to know when to nod and insert a noncommittal grunt here and there to convince his patients he was hanging on their every word. And usually he was, but today Harry’s mind was furiously trying to figure out what was really going on here. 

“The Trajans are exactly the barbarians that we always thought they were. I had no real information to give them, but that didn’t matter. They starved me for days, beat me when I wouldn’t talk, and kept threatening my family. I could not believe their audacity.”

Grant was making a decent showing of it, to be honest. There was emotion in his voice, and his clear blue eyes looked right at Harry, seemingly trying to convey just how traumatized he had been from his captivity. Based on the notes in his file, the Captain had been in Trajan custody for almost two years before being rescued when his transport ship was intercepted by a Walloqi convoy enforcing the trade embargo. Grant’s overly thin frame attested to the deprivations he’d apparently suffered while in Trajan custody. Harry couldn’t help but notice that his gauntness accented some pretty formidable cheekbones, too.

And that’s what really bothered Harry about all of this. There was no way that this man was who he said he was. Captain Noah Grant, according to the file on Harry’s pad, was a fellow Amblen graduate, apparently having attended the school just a few years ahead of Harry. But that could not be. Harry was sure that he would have remembered this man if they had been in school together. Fifteen-year old Harry had specialized in pretty blue-eyed boys with sharp cheekbones, long eyelashes, and perfect backsides. If the 17-year old version of the man before him had really been in school with him, Harry would have had a multitude of oft-revisited fantasies about him to remind him of his existence all these years later. To put it bluntly, Harry would have spent the last twelve years wanking to this man if he had ever crossed paths with him before now. He hadn’t. Ergo, this man was not Noah Grant.

“I know I’ve been through a lot, but I’m very well trained. I can handle it. So I really think you should clear me for duty so that I can get my intelligence clearance back.”

With that apparently conclusory statement, Captain Grant settled back in his chair and looked at Harry expectantly.

“That’s not going to happen just yet, Captain Grant. You’ve been assigned to me for evaluation and counseling, and it’s my duty to ensure that both you and the Walloqi military are safe before I can permit you to return to duty. You suffered something horrendous and you need time to process what has happened to you and understand who you are today after having been through such an experience. And I need to ensure that you are capable of handling the responsibilities of your position before you go back to full duty.”

Captain Grant, or whoever this man was, tried to hide his frustration with Harry’s response, but his jaw tightened a bit and his eyes turned to steel. Harry could almost see him reach the decision that he needed to try a different tack with his therapist. 

“Dr. Styles, I spent so long not being able to help anyone, just rotting away on Traj. I want to do my part. I know that I’m traumatized. I’d be a fool not to realize that. But sitting around doing nothing doesn’t help anyone. It won’t help me, and it won’t help Walloq. I want to help protect our people. We can’t just sit around and let that scum destroy our way of life.”

There was a false note of pleading in his voice that Harry recognized all too well. Many of his patients tried to play on his perceived loyalty to his father’s administration. However, Harry’s primary responsibility as a therapist was to his patients, not the administration. The fact that his father was president of Walloq would not help Capt. Grant be approved for duty any faster than his health allowed. And in this case, Harry needed to figure out what was going on -- and who Grant really was -- before he could be released from treatment.

“Capt. Grant, I’m sure you are eager to return to duty. But, again, until we deal directly with your trauma, I am not ---”

A piercing chirping noise interrupted Harry. It clearly came from Grant’s wrist communicator. Grant tapped the watchface.

“Sigma two nine five. Go ahead.”

“Lou! Code red! Extraction plan alpha prime activated. Stand by for safehouse coordinates.”

“Capt. Grant! What is the meaning of this? I told you that all communications needed to be turned off while we’re in session.” Harry was so offended by the interruption that he forgot for a moment that Grant was a liar, and this wasn’t a real session anyway.

“Sorry, Doc. But we gotta cut this short.” Grant -- Lou? -- tapped his wrist comm unit again, stood abruptly, and grabbed Harry by the arm, rushing him towards the door. “Roger, Niall. I’m afraid we have a sidecar. Is alpha prime go for two?”

“Um, I think so. Let me confirm.” 

Still dragging Harry along, Grant headed towards the back door. Harry, finally getting over his offense at the session having been interrupted and realizing that he was rapidly being dragged into some unknown excursion, dug in his heels and began to resist Grant’s pull. This barely slowed them down, but Grant turned swiftly and grabbed both of Harry’s arms, pulling him close and staring him directly in the eyes.

“Look, Doc, this is not what I anticipated for today but it is what it is. We gotta move now. That message means my cover is blown.” Harry, overwhelmed and confused, tried to interrupt, but the change in Grant’s sharp blue eyes cut him short. “You knew I was lying to you, so don’t act so surprised.”

In just a few sentences the Capt. Grant that Harry had been treating for the last few weeks disappeared. In his place was an all but different man. Rather than an officer trying to cover the effects of trauma in a desperate bid to return to duty, the man before him was sure in his words and actions. He dragged Harry out of his office building and quickly summoned a car, which appeared almost as if it had been waiting for them.

While shoving Harry into the back of the car, Grant’s comm unit chirped to life again.

“Go ahead, Niall.” 

Grant climbed in after Harry and reached for the car’s computer panel.

“Alpha prime a go for two, but it’ll be tight, Lou. Are you sure about this?”

“I have Matchstick.” Grant wasn’t looking at him, but Harry was pretty sure that _he_ was Matchstick. He had no idea why, though, or why Grant or this Niall would care about him.

“Oh. Well, you know best, Lou. Sending safehouse coordinates now.”

Grant looked down at the face of the communicator and then input instructions into the car’s guidance system that seemed a bit more complicated than just an address. He settled back onto the seat. Harry, confused and scared, scooted as far away as he could.

“Who are you, where are we going, and why the hell did you call me ‘Matchstick’?”

* * *

Louis had to take a moment to figure out what he could tell Harry, what he _should_ tell Harry. They had only spent a few hours over a couple of weeks together during his purported therapy, but Louis knew a lot more about Matchstick. He knew that he had flown through his education, graduating with his medical degree at a very young age. He knew that Dr. Styles specialized in treating patients with post-traumatic stress disorder, particularly Walloqi soldiers who had suffered in the long-fought war with Traj. He also knew that Harry wasn’t necessarily the obedient son and diligent patriot that he appeared to be. Louis’s organization had long ago hacked into the data accounts of certain important Walloqis. Before this mission, Louis had spent a long time reviewing Harry’s accounts. Even when he took measures to protect his identity and used anonymous accounts, Louis was able to see Harry’s searches and reading material on subversive topics. Harry took a lot of interest in resistance efforts on Walloq and in Trajan politics for someone who was supposed to be the dutiful heir to the administration.

“You can call me Louis.”

“So, you really aren’t Capt. Grant? I knew it.” Even through the fear he exuded, Louis could tell Harry was proud of himself for realizing that Grant had been a lie.

“Yeah, well I did my best to prepare but I guess you saw through me.”

The intention had always been for Harry to see through him, but he thought he’d have more time. A lot more time. The plan was to be in therapy for months, slowly unraveling his true identity to Harry as he built trust. If he did it right, by the time Harry “figured out” that he was a Trajan agent, Harry would have trusted him enough to be helpful to the cause. That time had been cut radically short, however. Louis’s cover was blown, and he had to get off Walloq as quickly as possible. Bringing Harry along was a decision made in haste, but perhaps Louis could use it to his advantage. First, he had to convince Harry that he had no choice but to go along with Louis’s extraction plans.

“What is going on?” Harry asked again. He was starting to panic. Louis needed to calm him.

“It’s quite simple, Harry. My cover is blown, so I am being extracted from Walloq and traveling home to Traj. You are coming with me.”

Harry’s eyes grew wider, and his breathing rate increased. Apparently Louis had not succeeded in calming him.

“I’m not going to Traj! Why would I go to Traj with you?!”

“Well, Harry, I think you’re going to come along with me because if you make a fuss, my team will make sure that all of Walloq knows exactly who you are.”

Louis was still failing at calming Harry down. It didn’t seem possible, but Harry’s eyes grew even wider. Despite having seen plenty of photos of Harry before his mission, Louis hadn’t been prepared for just HOW green his eyes would be in person. He wouldn’t include it in his mission report, but Louis was pretty sure that the intensity of Harry’s eyes was one of the reasons he wasn’t as effective in building his alternate identity in the therapy sessions as he should have been. Panic seemed to dim their emerald green beauty, however. 

“What do you mean, who I am? Everyone knows I’m Des Styles’s son. That’s no secret.”

“No, I mean we’ll tell everyone that you’re the Archer.”

Harry paled and slumped against the car door. He wasn’t exactly calm but Louis thought he wasn’t going to throw himself out of the moving car any time soon. 

“Why would you do that? I don’t think that the Traj High Military Command is all that thrilled about what the Archer has to say. What good would it do you?”

There were so many layers to this that Harry was missing. Louis quickly had to calculate the best approach here. Full honesty? No, not now. Maybe when they were off Walloq, in a transport headed home. If Harry were to get away, he could share some dangerous information with the administration. Louis also didn’t want to totally lie to him, if only because he eventually needed Harry to trust him. A lie now could come back to bite him later.

“What we need is you, Harry. My mission was to recruit you and try to get useful intelligence back to the cause. That mission has been cut short, but I still intend to fulfill my orders. I can’t gain your trust in the middle of an extraction, so blackmail will have to do. If you run, we’ll expose you as the Archer.”

Louis was pretty sure that this ploy would work. For years Harry had been publishing essays critical of the Walloqi-Trajan War on underground message boards. Posting on the boards was itself a crime on Walloq. Posting the kind of content like the Archer’s essays constituted several felonies and would lead to extended prison time if Harry were to be caught. Exposing the Archer as the son of the president would also likely bring down the administration. A result Louis wasn’t opposed to, but he didn’t really want to destroy Harry if he didn’t have to. He was far more valuable as an ally. Plus, he’d sorta grown fond of him.

Harry gathered himself, sitting up straighter, visibly forcing the panic away. “So that’s how it is, is it? You want to buy information from me and the payment is not exposing me? Well, I don’t have any information that would be useful to you. This is pointless.”

“You underestimate yourself, Harry. You’re very useful.”

The car’s navigation system cut the conversation short. “You have arrived at your destination.”

* * *

The car had stopped in front of a nondescript multistory apartment building. Grant -- Louis -- grabbed Harry’s arm again, dragging him out of the car. Harry wouldn’t say that he cooperated in this uprooting, but he wasn’t resisting as much as he had when he’d been shoved into the car back at his office. He’d been gone for just fifteen minutes or so. His session with Grant -- with Louis -- it was going to take a minute for Harry to think of this man as Louis, even though he seemed pretty comfortable calling him Harry -- wouldn’t even be over yet. Likely no one noticed he was gone, unless his assistant had heard them leaving out the back.

Louis dragged Harry to the building’s vestibule, those bright blue eyes keenly scanning their surroundings. Harry assumed he was checking to see if they’d been followed. Louis tapped his comm unit again.

“Niall, I’m at the safehouse. Need a door code. Do we have birdseye established yet?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer. Louis had shoved Harry into a corner of the vestibule close to the door, while he hovered on the outside, still scanning the street and surrounding neighborhood. Eventually the comm unit chirped.

“Sorry, Lou. It’s chaos here. Door code is, um, eight six two nine. Working on birdseye. Should be ready in ten. There’s a linked pad in the apartment.”

Louis entered the code and opened the door. He nodded at Harry to enter before him.

“Done dragging me then?”

“Well, we just stood here for approximately 90 seconds. I figured if you were going to run, you would have.”

Harry grumbled -- running hadn’t actually occurred to him -- but he entered the building and crossed the small lobby to the elevator. Louis followed and reached for the call button. The doors opened immediately. Harry was annoyed by that. First the car was there instantly and now the elevator. Louis seemed to bend everyone and everything to his will. Louis hit the button for the fifth floor. 

“What’s birdseye? Also, I haven’t forgotten that you haven’t explained why I’m called Matchstick.”

“Aerial surveillance. We have to make sure we’re black before we can head to the extraction point.”

“Black?”

“That we’re clear from anyone following us and from surveillance. Don’t want to expose our network.”

They exited the elevator on the fifth floor and followed a short hallway to unit 520. Louis glanced at his comm unit and entered a code into the door lock. Harry wasn’t able to see if it was the same code as the building’s front door.

“The door locks from the inside, too,” Louis tossed over his shoulder, entering the apartment. “May be a fire hazard, but these safehouses are set up for prisoner security.”

“I’m a prisoner, am I?”

Louis gave him a look that conveyed “Well, duh,” loud and clear. Harry’s panic had passed; now he was getting pissed.

“Look, I get that you have some mission to fulfill here, but I am not worth your time. My father doesn’t share anything with me. We barely even talk. Haven’t in years. Dragging me into this isn’t going to get you anything. I want nothing to do with your ‘cause.’ I just want to be left alone.”

Harry was steaming now, pacing the length of the small living room. Louis was opening drawers in a desk, rummaging around for something. He didn’t seem to be listening to Harry at all, intent on pulling all sorts of electronics out of the unreasonably capacious desk drawers.

“When my assistant realizes I’m missing, she’s going to call the security forces. I bet they’re already looking for me. I may not talk with my father much, but he definitely likes to know where I am. You called a car directly to my office. I’m sure they can find the car and access the navigation memory.”

“I hacked the nav system.” Louis had moved to the coffee table and was assembling what now started to resemble an elaborate computer pad setup.

“You did what?”

“I hacked the system. Even if they can locate the specific car we were in, which I doubt, I inserted malware that will scramble all the data. It would take years to unscramble it to get this address.”

Louis was still intent on his equipment, not looking at Harry as he continued to pace. His lack of attention made Harry even angrier.

“You had this whole thing planned, didn’t you? You say your cover was blown, but I think you’re making all this up. You just wanted to kidnap me!”

Harry was practically screaming now. This finally got a reaction from Louis, who looked up from his tinkering, blue eyes flashing. Despite the situation, Louis had been utterly calm until now, but Harry could see that his control was starting to fray a bit.

“Harry. Sit down and shut up.” 

Harry sat. Louis’ tone allowed for no other response.

“Believe me, kidnapping you was not the goal. Your presence is, in fact, a pain in my ass. Do you know how hard it’s going to be to get us to the extraction point without getting caught? I know that this is not what you want to do, but trust me, you will have plenty of time later to tell me all about it. For the next six hours or so, please just do what I tell you. If we’re caught, my team really will out you as the Archer. Interrogation won’t be a vacation for either of us. So let me do my job and get us out of here.”

“But . . .”

“Ugh, Harry, just for now, SHUT UP. I need to concentrate.”

Louis seemed to have set up his equipment, including a large pad and a comm unit. Harry stewed in his anger and frustration, but kept quiet. 

“Sigma two nine five. Ready at safehouse Delta. Need birdseye and next coordinates for extraction alpha prime.”

Despite himself, Harry was curious about this whole process. While he chose a civilian career, he did treat a lot of soldiers. He also loved spy movies and books. The Walloqi-Trajan War had been active for more than a decade, but the conflict had been brewing nearly a century, since the two planets had discovered that the asteroid belt that fell into the neutral zone between them was flush with much needed minerals and metals. That joint survey mission was the last time the two planets had worked cooperatively. Even Harry’s grandfather couldn’t remember a time when Walloq and Traj had been allies. The cold war had given way to an active one, and the entertainment available to Harry all his life had reflected the conflict. Especially as a boy, Harry had devoured anything he could find about spies. When he was at Amblen as a teenager, he had seen also Traj films and read resistance literature that some of the boys smuggled into the dorms for the first time. The Archer grew from those first experiences with samizdat.

“Roger, sigma two nine five. Birdseye online.” This voice wasn’t the same as the Niall that Louis had been talking to before. “You have three hours and twenty-one minutes to get black. Meet agent sigma three seven seven at next coordinates. Transferring now.”

Louis glanced at his wrist comm. Harry assumed the coordinates had been transferred there -- and that Louis likely wouldn’t share their destination with Harry.

“Understood. Going dark until rendezvous.”

“Luck be on your side, agent sigma two nine five.”

Louis flicked a switch and the comms crackle cut off. After all the activity of the last hour, Harry was stressed by the quiet.

“You need to change clothes. There should be some things in the bedroom.” Louis was focused on his pad, not looking at Harry as he gave the instruction.

Harry looked down at what he was wearing -- slacks, striped button down shirt, patterned sweater vest. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I like this outfit.”

“Nothing, but you need to look different. Try to find a hat in there. We really need to cover up your hair.”

* * *

Louis knew Harry was upset about being told to change clothes, but staying in what he was wearing wasn’t an option, even if he looked really good in it. Harry was a noticeable guy -- tall, broad, those green eyes and his curly mop, very fashionably styled. Louis needed to make him unnoticeable, quickly.

While Harry sulked off to the bedroom to look for clothes, Louis checked the birdseye. So far there was no unusual security activity. Louis didn’t know if that meant that no one realized Harry was gone or if the search for him was being handled more quietly than the Walloqi security force’s usual crash and bang technique. He had to assume the latter. It was too dangerous to think they were clear. Louis studied the map of the city. He knew this town as well as his own village. Knew every alley and pathway. He checked his watch: he had three hours and four minutes to get to the spaceport shuttle station. They could stay here and then go directly there closer to the rendezvous time, but that was a bad option. It would give the security force time to figure out either where they were or where they were going. 

Once they realized Harry was gone, surely they would check who his patient had been and realize that Capt. Grant wasn’t exactly who he said he was. Capt. Noah Grant really did eject over the South Castran Sea and get handed over to the Trajan fleet. It was Louis, however, who was “rescued” by a Walloqi enforcement ship two years later. The real Capt. Grant had died in captivity. Louis was just borrowing his identity. They had carefully forged documents and changed data to support his legend, but there were always holes when a security force poked at a false identity hard enough. Louis doubted they’d figure out exactly who he was, but it wasn’t a leap to realize that a Trajan spy had taken off with the president’s son.

So, they needed to take a roundabout path to the station. Louis was trained for this. He knew how to evade detection, both on the ground and in the air. But he wasn’t very experienced at doing it while dragging someone untrained along with him. He needed a simple plan. Looking closely at the live birdseye shot of the city, Louis had an idea.

“Harry! Have you ever ridden one of those hop-on-hop-off tourist buses? Do you know if there’s a limit to how long you can stay on one?”

Harry appeared in the bedroom doorway. He had changed into a pair of jeans and was pulling a t-shirt over his head. His hair was even more of a curly mess than when he had gone in there. 

“Yeah, once when my cousin came to town we did that. Didn’t stay on there very long, though. We just wanted the ride to some of the museums.”

Harry’s t-shirt was apparently from a donut shop and said “Made to Order” on the front. He turned to go back into the bedroom. The back of the shirt said “Freshly filled!” Why was this shirt even an option in the safehouse? It must have been a cast off from a previous use of the apartment.

“You can’t wear that,” Louis yelled.

Harry looked back out into the living room, all big eyes and pouting lips. “Why? I like it.” He smoothed his hand down his chest, making sure the absurd shirt wasn’t wrinkled.

“First, because it’s at least 3 sizes too small. I can see your belly button. Second, it will draw too much attention. The goal is to blend in, not to pick up a trick for the night.”

Harry, still pouting, rolled his eyes. “If you’re kidnapping me, I should get to wear what I want.”

“Stop being a child and put on something boring. You’re likely going to be wearing the same clothes for quite a while, so pick something comfortable.”

Harry paled, again. “How long is ‘a while’?”

“I’m not sure, but probably about ten days.”

“What?! No, I’m not doing that. You can’t make me wear the same clothes for ten days.”

“Harry, we’ve been through this. You’re going to do what I tell you because it’s safest for both of us. If you don’t, I’ll make sure that your life gets a lot worse than just traveling to Traj.”

Louis wasn’t sure a person could be any paler than Harry already was, but somehow he became ghostly at this.

“How long did you think it took to get to Traj?”

Harry didn’t answer. He took a deep breath, turned, and walked back into the bedroom, already taking the donut shirt off. Louis hoped he got the message and found some suitable clothes. Louis was dressed in all black, as usual. Never knowing when he might need to run, Louis always chose to wear comfortable, nondescript clothes.

Louis was pretty sure the tour bus idea would work. The art museum was just a block away and was one of the stops on the south route. The spaceport shuttle station was a stop on the north route, but there were a few places where you could cross routes. According to the bus company’s data site, a platinum ticket would get you all day access to both routes. They’d have to ride around a while, but as long as they weren’t spotted catching or changing buses, they should be protected from aerial surveillance. He’d have to depend on his own assessment of ground coverage. If it seemed like they were being followed, he could change tactics and switch to foot evasion. The advantage of the bus was that it didn’t require Harry to keep up with Louis’s street maneuvers. Hopefully, it would work.

“Is this okay?”

Louis looked up. Harry was now dressed in jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and a boring gray ball cap. 

“You probably want to grab a sweater or jacket, but, yes, that’s fine.”

Harry hmphed but headed back into the bedroom, reappearing momentarily with a gray hoodie. Louis found a go bag in a kitchen cabinet. He checked that it had everything they’d need. He added a few bottles of water from the fridge. He still didn’t have the name of the contact for the station, but he’d have to wait until the rendezvous for that. For now, they had what they needed to get through the city.

“Let’s go.”

Louis headed for the door, re-entering the lock code. Harry was still sullen -- he was biting his lower lip like a pretty, overgrown child -- but he followed without comment. They took the stairs down to the basement and exited through a service door. Two hours and forty-seven minutes until extraction, and Louis and Matchstick were on the streets.

* * *

Over two hours later Harry reluctantly followed Louis onto the seventh practically identical tour bus. Harry was not enjoying this. At this point he just did whatever Louis told him to do, desperate that it all be over. All those spy books he’d read had failed to convey just how utterly exhausting evading surveillance actually was. Harry wasn’t quite sure where they were, wasn’t sure where they were going, and wasn’t sure he was going to make it. They took a seat on the bottom level of the bus -- not all of them were double-deckers, but they always sat on the lower level of those that were. Better to avoid aerial surveillance.

“Are we there yet?” Harry whined. 

Louis, in the window seat and still as alert as he had been hours earlier, didn’t even look at him, eyes sharply scanning the street.

“Not yet.”

Harry was aware that they were still about forty-five minutes away from the deadline that Louis had been given back at the apartment, but he couldn’t restrain himself from asking if they were there yet every fifteen minutes or so. Since leaving the apartment, they had barely spoken other than Louis giving Harry basic instructions. Pestering him felt like the only way Harry could contribute to the cause. 

Harry readjusted his cap to push his hair -- now sweaty and matted and not nearly up to his standards -- back behind his ears. He settled back in the seat and stared at the dingy seat back in front of him. He didn’t bother to glance out the window at the historical sights that the guide was describing on the page system. This was at least the third time they’d been on this part of the route. Louis never turned away from the window.

Harry had no idea if they were being followed or not. Louis seemed to choose to change buses on a whim. Sometimes they’d walked between stops, when there was some form of cover like buildings to walk through or pedestrian tunnels or underpasses. Sometimes they went into a building only to come right back out and hop onto another bus. Harry figured out quickly that Louis knew what he was doing, and it was best to just follow him.

Not that Harry trusted Louis, of course. He was being kidnapped, and blackmailed to boot. The prospect of travelling to Traj, a place he’d never been that all Walloqis feared, was too awful to think about, though. Best just focus on the here and now. At some point he’d figure out what his next steps would be. 

He needed a way to escape Louis that wouldn’t result in him being exposed as the Archer. Harry didn’t care so much that it might destroy his father’s political career to have a son who was the voice of the resistance. That would be great, in fact. But if Harry were prosecuted, his voice would be silenced. Though he wasn’t directly involved with the activities of the resistance, he knew that the Archer’s words were important to the cause. Free speech was limited on Walloq. The planet was a democracy in name only. Most people didn’t have access to the resources that Harry did. To allow himself to be exposed would not only cut off one of the only voices advocating change but potentially undermine all resistance efforts. Harry was sure that if he were prosecuted, the administration would find a way to disgrace him and the resistance. Even if the Archer went silent, Harry couldn’t allow his few contacts in the resistance to be found out.

Louis’s voice broke Harry’s reverie.

“We need to get off at the next stop. I need you to follow me and keep up. No questions, no whining.” Louis was more serious than he had been thus far in their journey. He still hadn’t turned to look at Harry, but his body had tensed. Harry tensed up in response. Apparently something was wrong.

“Are we being followed?”

“I’m not sure. We need to get to the rendezvous point on foot. I need you to keep up. I can’t be dragging you where others can see.”

Harry swallowed nervously. It seemed the boring, exhausting quest through the city was about to get interesting.

The bus came to a stop in front of the city’s war memorial, a fitting place for their flight from Walloqi security forces to heat up, Harry thought. With a nudge from Louis, Harry got up and exited the side door of the bus. Louis turned to the right, away from the memorial, and took off at a pace just slightly faster than a casual tourist. Harry kept pace beside him. Earlier Louis had instructed Harry not to run or seem like he was in a hurry. While they needed to move swiftly, they didn’t want to stand out too much from the crowd.

Taking his cue from Louis, Harry started looking around to see if anyone reacted to them. He was sure that he wasn’t able to see all that Louis did, but now that he knew they might be in danger, Harry was keen to not just blindly follow Louis. They had walked about three blocks south of the war memorial when two black cars pulled over to the side of the road ahead and four security force agents exited. They weren’t trying to be sneaky about it; even Harry realized what was happening.

The cars swerved back into traffic and the security officers began walking very quickly towards Harry and Louis. They’re not trying to hide, thought Harry. They’re definitely walking too fast to blend in.

“Shit. Harry, into the mall.”

At the end of the block was an entrance to the urban mall that they had been walking past. To go into the mall would actually force them to double back on themselves. Harry didn’t question it. He kept up with Louis’s increased pace and pushed through the revolving door at the mall entrance.

The mall was crowded with people. A playroom for kids to stay at while their parents shopped was located close to the entrance, and the cries of children startled Harry as they rushed past. Louis headed up the first escalator they came to, Harry on his heels. Harry took a second to look back over his shoulder and saw two of the security officers enter the mall. They hadn’t noticed him and Louis yet. 

“Lou! They’re in the mall!”

“At the top of the escalator, we’re going to split up. I want you to go down the right side of the concourse. Try to find a new hat and shirt. Steal it if you have to. Don’t use a credit card, whatever you do. Work your way to the other end of the mall quickly, but try not to stand out. I’ll meet you in the service stairwell that’s behind the restrooms at the other end. Understood?”

Harry nodded. Louis wasn’t looking at him but somehow seemed to understand Harry’s assent.

This was a lot more like those spy novels, Harry thought. He was pretty sure he didn’t like it.

* * *

Separating from Harry was a risk. He’d been cooperative for the last few hours, but Louis thought that might have been shock as much as anything. If they were going to avoid detection, though, it was a chance he had to take.

Louis didn’t know how they’d been found. His tradecraft had been good. He didn’t think that they had been followed from the safehouse. Somehow they must have been detected on aerial surveillance. Louis had tried to keep them under cover, but there had been a few places where that just wasn’t possible.

There was a change of clothes in the backpack Louis had taken from the safehouse. He just needed to get somewhere he could change. He also needed a distraction to draw the attention of the security officers and keep them away from Harry. Who would undoubtedly draw attention to himself trying to get new clothes.

Louis took the escalator to the third floor two steps at a time. A few annoyed shoppers grumbled as he rushed past them. No time for niceties now. Hurrying down the concourse, Louis looked for a shop that didn’t have any customers and only had one employee. The upper levels of a mall weren’t usually prime locations, so odds were good that he’d find the sad little shop he needed. 

Halfway down there was a candle shop that seemed to fit the bill. Downstairs Louis had noticed one of those big chain stores that always smelled like candles and lotions had oozed onto every surface. Apparently candle shoppers preferred that place to Karen’s Kandles on the third floor. Despite his aversion to the aromas of the chain store, Louis couldn’t blame anyone for avoiding a store spelling candle with a “K.”

It would serve Louis’s purposes, though. Rustling in his bag, he located the nearest garbage can. He found a lighter in the bag, which he flicked on, after making sure no one was paying attention to him. He dropped it into the half-full can. He then rushed into the store, heading straight for the woman putting blue and green candles on a display table.

“Fire! Fire! There’s a fire in the garbage can outside! Do you have a fire extinguisher?”

“Oh my! Yes, yes, in the back. I’ll get it.”

“No! I can get it. Can you call mall security and show them where it is? It’s the can right outside the door.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

The woman ran out into the concourse, pulling her personal comm unit out of a pocket. Louis quickly located the door to the back room. At the back of the storeroom was another door that opened onto an internal hallway that was used to bring in stock and allow employees to pass through without using the main concourse. Louis changed quickly and ran down the hall to the back stairwell where he’d told Harry to meet him. He hoped he was there.

As he clattered down the stairs, Louis heard the mall’s fire alarm go off. Kandle Karen had done her job. Hopefully the security officers would get distracted by the confusion.

Thankfully, Harry was standing on the second floor landing.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Louis asked, with all the exasperation he could muster as he grabbed Harry’s arm and pushed him to start down the stairs. Harry had exchanged his gray hat and hoodie for a bright orange hunting cap and a sweatshirt that had a picture of a fish and said “Master Baiter.”

“There was a hunting and fishing store. These were the first things I could find.” 

“They’re not exactly inconspicuous, Harry!”

They continued past the first floor landing, heading for the parking garage. Nine minutes until the rendezvous. The only option was to steal a car.

“I’m not an expert at this! I did the best I could! If you have a problem with it, you could just leave me here and go on your own!”

“I’m not doing that. Come on! Did you at least keep your other clothes?” Harry wasn’t carrying anything, but the sweatshirt was bulky. Maybe he had tucked the old hat and hoodie underneath or something. Louis honed in on an old model manual car the next row over. Easier to jack than a self-driving one.

“You didn’t tell me to keep them!”

Louis sighed. He pulled a lock kit out of the go bag and picked the car’s lock quickly.

“Get in. And take the hat off at least. Your curly mop is less noticeable than bright orange in the middle of the city.”

Harry huffed, but he took off the hat and got into the passenger seat. Six minutes.

* * *

Harry still didn’t know where they were going, but he was pretty sure time was running out. Louis put the old car in gear and sped towards the exit. Luckily, the car had a transponder for the gate, and they were able to exit the garage without having to pay. Louis turned left out of the garage with a squeal of the tires. The other two security agents, who must have been trying to guard the garage exit, watched them fly by, helpless to stop them. 

“You’re not exactly being inconspicuous now, are you?” Harry said. 

Louis glared at him. “We have four minutes to get to the rendezvous point or we’re stuck here. Do you want to spend the night in detention?”

Harry didn’t have a response, other than to grab the dashboard as Louis almost ran headfirst into a parked car.

“Shit. Sorry, I got this.”

Harry felt himself starting to panic again. It had been a very long day and it appeared that it wasn’t going to end well. Louis didn’t seem as comfortable with manual driving as he had been with everything else. Harry wasn’t sure that detention was the worst possible outcome when you considered a high speed collision with a large object.

A few blocks -- and a few near misses -- later, and Louis seemed to have a handle on things. Harry forced himself to focus on his breathing and try to calm down. He suddenly realized where they were heading.

“You’re heading for the spaceport shuttle station? There’s no way we can get through security! Especially not in the next few minutes.”

“We’re not going through security.”

Louis sped past the lane for departures and turned down the road for cargo. Harry immediately knew where he was going.

“No, Lou.”

“Yes, Harry.”

Louis didn’t have to explain, Harry figured it out all on his own. They were going to spend the next ten days in a cargo container. Fun.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge for the prompt "extract". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/extract), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge (including years 1-3), [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works). You can also find the masterpost for this year’s challenge [here](https://wordplayfics.tumblr.com/post/622306139518926848/wordplay-2020-every-week-for-five-weeks-a-prompt).
> 
> How Fitting and Sweet is a WIP that will unfold as a result of each week’s prompt. The outer sketches of the series have been plotted, but the prompt each week will guide the details of the story. The title of the series comes from [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dulce_et_Decorum_est). (Don't worry -- no major characters will die!)
> 
> A huge thank you to Shannon, the best beta I could ever want!
> 
> A Tumblr fic post can be found [here](https://soidiallednine.tumblr.com/post/622909837066518528/how-fitting-and-sweet-by-soidiallednine). Please reblog if you enjoy the fic!


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